


Worst nightmare?

by Yellowbirdbluetoo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 08:27:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16322744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yellowbirdbluetoo/pseuds/Yellowbirdbluetoo
Summary: The trio just need to find the third horocrux. It's behind one of the three doors. The only logical idea is for each of them to try a door.Then again logical doesn't mean best.-/-





	Worst nightmare?

**Author's Note:**

> Based off a scene from the Mlp:Fim season two premiere, where Spike looks into a cursed door and sees his worst nightmare. 
> 
> Instead the door shows an amazing scenario and then amplifies the seriousness of your current situation to keep you captivated until whoever set the trap can come get you. Which is such a cool concept but I couldn't find any background on it.
> 
> (*possible light Ron/Harry or Ron/Harry/Hermione vibes tbh*)
> 
> Also au where this is the third horocrux or whatever and not the locket thing, and Ron doesn't leave them.

The three doors that stood in front of the trio were tall and daunting, seeming to bleed into the wall. They were pitch black and if if weren't for the doorknobs on each of them, Harry would've assumed they were tunnels.

Each of them stood in front of one door, wands at the ready for whatever would be inside.

"On the count of three, okay?". Harry said. Ron and Hermione nodded. 

"1..2..3!".

They flung the doors open and Harry had to close his eyes from a bright light that blinded him. He groped for something, anything. His hands brushed over some. A doorknob. He tugged on it, and walked through, slamming it behind him. Harry opened his eyes, blinking several times to get rid of the dots in his eyes.

When he regained his sight he started to take in his surroundings. Any trace of the black doors were gone. He stood in a house, that shared a similar layout with the Dursley's. He stood before the front door, at the base of a staircase, a long hallway spread out before him. The atmosphere on its own was way different. Light and happy, instead of dark and dreadful. He did a double take when he realized that the (his) cupboard wasn't there. Just a regular wall in its place.

He began walking down the hallway, stopping when he noticed the pictures hung on the wall. He sucked in a gasp. It was him. Well him and two other girls. He sat in the middle next to a girl that looked near identical than him but younger, and another similar looking girl, clearly the youngest , but with dark orange hair. They were all smiling, slightly stiff in matching outfits. He kept going. Another picture of him but as a baby, smiling at something our of sight. Another of the two girls against a wall, measurements above them.

One of...his parents. They looked significantly older but still youthful and happy. His father had the youngest girl on his shoulders and she had a big smile on her face. His mother had both her hands on his and the other girls shoulders. The other girl had her tongue out but still looked happy. And he himself was smiling too. 

He felt weird looking at the picture. Like he was missing something.

He shook it off and continued, turning back to the hall when another bright light hit his face. Though this one didn't hurt like the other one. 

Everything felt foggy. He stood in a hospital room next to bed. The girl who looked like him was next to him and he realized they were holding hands. A hand on his shoulders startled him. He looked up to see his father, grinning at him. "That's your new little sister. Emily".

His mum was on the hospital bed, a small bundle in a blanket in her arms. A baby.

He took a shuddering breath when he was pulled back to the present.

He had a younger sister named Emily.

'What was going on?'. In his frazzled state he loudly bumped into a small table and had to quickly grab a vase of flowers to keep it from falling.

"Harry! Is that you? Be a dear and grab your sister from upstairs". His mother's voice comes from what must be the kitchen, as the clattering sound of dishes could be heard.

He doesn't know why, but his legs seemed to move of their own accord, away from her. He wasn't even sure if he could face her. His mother. He walked up the stairs, noticing more pictures but not stopping to look until one moved. 

He was nearly use to pictures and such moving after nearly eight years in the wizarding world, but sometimes he still jumped when he would notice out of the corner of his eye. Him, bouncing excitedly and smiling from ear to ear, a small broom clutched in his hand. His dad stood next to him, ruffling his hair and also grinning proudly, and another bright light flashed in his face .

He was in the air, laughing. Some yelled behind him. He felt small. Six. maybe even five. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he did. 

"Harry!". His father, shouting his name but laughing. "Harry James Potter!". His mother's voice, sounding absolutely furious. He turned around, stuck his tongue out.

And then promptly crashed into a wall.

The scene cut to him bawling on the couch, his dad looking over him and his mum comforting him. His fist was wrapped in her shirt as he cried into it. She rubbed his back soothingly as he did. "Your okay sweetie. I told you no flying your broom in the house".

He sniffled. "B-but uncle S-s-sirius said I s-should practice". She hushed him again. 

"Is he good? Nothing major". His dad asked.

Harry's mum gave a semi-forced grin. "Yeah. If anything hurts later could be a sprained wrist, but I've already healed anything else". He looked smug for a moment. "Gave him a relaxer, so we can put him down for a nap". She whispered. Harry felt his mum chuckle.

Harry didn't fight when he felt his eyelids getting heavy and let them close, just to rest them.

When he opened them again he was back on the stairwell, and he shook his head to clear his thoughts. 

'Sirius had gotten him his first broom?'. He couldn't remember much from the time before his parents death. Flashes here and there from dreams. But learning this felt like sliding books onto a bookshelf. The memory fit perfectly, like it belonged there.

He continued on upwards, halting once he reached the top. A long hallway with several doors stood in front of him. He looked down each way and decided to go left. He passed a room with an Appleby Arrows poster on it and knocked. No answer came and he slowly opened the door and peered in. It was a slightly cluttered room, a bed pushed against a wall, some more quidditch posters, a broom leaned against a dresser. 

"Hedwig!". He gasped, as the white owl sat comfortably on a perch, looking at him seemingly amused. "What're you doing here, do you know what's going on?".

She gave him a look as if he were crazy. Clearly meaning no.

He scoffed, but decided to leave the room and try the next one for his 'sister'. He knocked and when no answered again, he continued in, only slightly less surprised when another flash of light blinds him. This time he's in a very pink room, dolls scattered on the floor, mixed with some action figures. A bunk bed pushed against the wall, and an old tv on in the background. He's sitting on the floor, fighting with another girl, the one who looks similar to him with his black hair in pigtails , but his father's eyes glaring at him. "Let go!". He says, tugging something -a book?- towards him. She pulls back. "No, you!". "Stop it both of you!". His mother harshly whispers. She grabs the book out of their reach. "I just got your little sister down, and so help me if you wake her up you'll have no desert for a week". "But mooo-". "Sssh!". Both of them fall silent but pout. She sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. "How about you go play in the backyard until Clarise wakes up?". The two share a look but Harry gets up nonetheless and after a moment Emily follows. Somehow he knows the way to the backyard. It's beautiful. A garden with a small shallow pond next to it, across from a little swing set and slide. A few toys were scattered about the yard and it looked as thought it had been thoroughly played in. Emily then pushes him, though she's to small to do much but startle him, and then takes off in the opposite direction. "Tag!". Young Harry grins and goes to run after her. He snaps back to reality* and comes face to face with Emily. She raises an eyebrow at him. "Is dinner ready yet?". He nods. "Yeah mum said come downstairs". He's surprised by how the word rolls of his tongue. He's sure he's hardly ever said it. "Okay". She turns and yells. "Clarise, dinner!". "Coming!". He watches as Emily walks out the room, observing her. She's him with his father's eyes. Dressed in darker colors and he suddenly stuck wondering what house she's in. "Harry!". Someone- Clarise- has jumped on his back and he quickly places his arms under her legs so she doesn't fall off. "Mighty stallion, take me dinner!". She points roughly to where the kitchen is downstairs, and he gets the feeling this is something they must do often. "Okay okay. Man your heavy". "Harrryyy". She whines. "Your supposed to call me your majesty".

Harry huffs. Might as well play along until he figures put what's going on. "Okay, your majesty. To dinner?".

She cheers. "Yeah! Giddy up!".

"Okay then". And he starts to go downstairs.

**Author's Note:**

> *oh! There goes gravity


End file.
